Broken Bird
by z0mbieShakespeare
Summary: The champion of Kirkwall is no more. All that is left are the remnants of a once proud rogue hopelessly in love with a deteriorating mage, unable to see the suffering he heaps upon her every day. Post-DAII. An abusive relationship between HawkexAnders. Very dark story.


When I finished Dragon Age 2, especially with the Anders friendship romance, I just could not see a happy ending for Anders and Hawke. In my mind, Anders was clearly beyond love. The fact that Hawke had the option of staying in love with him just didn't sit well with me and somehow translated into the start of an abusive relationship, one partner just unable to see the corruption in the other. That was the inspiration for this fic. I've heard that the game had a glitch and their ending really did end with a kiss but I found it more fitting that Anders did not kiss Hawke at the end of the friendship romance. At this point, love was beyond him. There was only his cause, Vengeance, and nothing more.

Warning: This is most definitely NOT a pleasant story. Dub-con, verbal abuse, physical abuse

* * *

Mages were hunted; templars were unchained. The whole of Thedas was stirred into chaos from the actions of the Champion of Kirkwall. Just for the acquisition of titles and riches, Hawke incited Anders to join her cause, unearthed a cursed idol that drove the knight-commander insane, and assisted indirectly with the construction of a bomb that decimated Kirkwall's chantry. She hadn't even counted all the innocent bodies she had stepped over for the sake of Anders and the mages. If she hadn't befriended Cullen, if Cullen hadn't held the templars back, she'd probably be a defiled corpse propped upon a pyre as an idol of chaos. Hawke couldn't imagine the punishment Cullen would have received for freeing the symbol of rebellion to mages everywhere.

It was this shady past that made Hawke's present lifestyle so much less shameful than it was.

There was no way she and Anders could have remained in The Free Marches. Everyone knew the face of the champion and the face of the fugitive who blew up the chantry and murdered the holy mother. While The Free Marches was still gripped in the chaos of Kirkwall, Hawke and Anders snuck into a passenger ship headed to Orlais. Hawke swore a sailor saw both of them huddled together behind the cargo. The sailor merely turned away and returned to his grog-swilling captain without a mention of the two fugitives upon his ship. Hawke couldn't help but feel Varric had a hand in this just as he always had to his companions.

The fugitive lovers took a caravan to an obscure Orlesian city of Obsidian located in a valley surrounded by mountains. Anders had figured a closed-up city such as this wouldn't be affected by the current state of Thedas. Still, the two took up aliases and discontinued the usual habits they had. With the money left over from their fortune in Kirkwall, they had purchased a tiny cabin situated in the heart of the city.

The cabin had only two rooms: A bedroom and a dining room with an outhouse outside. The dining room itself was more like half a closet, Anders believed. A small stove and fireplace took up nearly the entire dining room. Crates had taken the place of a suitable table to eat as well as a suitable container to hold supplies. The bed took up the entire bedroom; a chest in the corner for their clothing was the only other furnishing. Merrill's housing in the alienage seemed luxurious compared to this shack.

Though, there was one part of the cabin Hawke enjoyed. There was only one small window in the dining room. It was pointed into trees which made it impossible for anyone to look in unless they were squeezed between the tree and window. This meant Anders could release all the magical tension he wanted without anyone noticing. Still, this privilege could not sate Anders's desire to use magic.

XXXXX

"Love, it's dangerous for you to use your magic outside." They had been through this conversation every other night. Hawke had forbidden Anders from using his magic outside of their dingy cabin in fear that the villagers would not be as welcoming to his powers as they were in Dark Town, "And what if someone reports you to the templars as the one who blew up the Chantry and provoked the templar and mage war?"

The small bedroom was quiet for a second. The crackling of a fireplace and the wispy sound of Hawke folding the grainy sheets upon the bed were the only noises in the air. Hawke hoped she had won the argument but knew there'd be no such thing.

"But no one knows who I am! And if I help people out with my magic, they'll be more tolerant of mages when the news of the circle rebellion reaches here," Anders was adamant in convincing Hawke that using his skills overtly would only benefit themselves and mages in the city, "Please; they need to see magic isn't evil!"

"No!" Hawke was loud. She had hoped the intensity of her voice would scare off Anders's persistence, "And what if they don't? What if they brand you an abomination before they you even show them your gifts? There isn't anywhere else to hide, **Anders**, and I don't need you turning the only city secluded from Thedas against us!" She dropped the sheets to the bed, glaring at him intensely.

Hawke had truly hoped the argument had ended. The tortured pout Anders held on his face obviously meant he had more to say. She had to take this diplomatically. Anger just wasn't enough to quench Anders's fiery persistence. She approached him, eyes locked upon his face for the first step. Anders turned away after.

"Anders, it's too dangerous. I don't want to lose you," Anders was a fountain of cheesy romance lines. Perhaps cheesy lines directed at him would have stronger effect, "When I leave for work, I always fear that you'll be captured by templars when I return. I gave up a life of mercenary work to hide my identity as the Champion. Can't you do the same for me?"

A brief sigh, closed eyes, Anders had admitted defeat. Justice was another matter.

Otherworldly light blazed through his eyes. His skin ruptured in mystic glow. Hawke had faced Justice before but never had she felt such a threatening aura from him. He grabbed her by the arms. His hands were searing hot from the raw magic coursing through his body. He slammed her into the cabin walls, unfeeling wood smacking roughly against her spine.

"I grow tired of you, human!" The demonic voice boomed, "Do not blanket your distrust of magic with fodder you call love." The grip on her arms was starting to bruise. She had faced Justice before in a heated argument but never had she felt her life was threatened till today, "Your desire to suppress the tolerance of mages makes you no better than the templars!" The hellish aura around Justice grew searing hot against Hawke's body. Desperately, she tried to free herself for she knew if she didn't soon, Justice would reduce her to ashes.

Though Justice was a spirit of the fade, he coexisted within Anders's body. With her arms pinned down, Hawke delivered a swift kick between his legs. Anders's body smarted with pain and stumbled back allowing Hawke to free herself from the wall and distance herself from the vengeful spirit. Her heart pounded furiously as the vengeful spirit regained his composure and approached her. She cursed silently for leaving her equipment in their bedroom chest. A miasmic flask would have been more than enough to knock him out.

Hawke had no intention of hurting Anders but her survival instincts immediately guided her hand to the knife upon the stove, "Anders, get a hold of yourself! I'm doing this for your safety!" The demonic glow did not falter. The endless days of suppressing his magic and hearing of mage persecution had finally reached its limit. Justice could no longer be satisfied with mere reasoning, "I understand what you want to do but not now. Not when we have nothing left. When we have a secure hold in this city, then maybe,"

Her words were cut off by a surge of electricity coursing through her body. The pain was not excruciating, luckily Anders still had the will to hold back. She fell to her knees; her body was numb from the hit. She noticed her throat and lips were too sore from the sudden electrical impulse to speak. Perhaps this, she thought, was Justice's way of telling her to 'shut up'.

Hawke closed her eyes, relaxing her body as much as she could. If Anders attacked again, then so be it. There was nothing else she could do till she regained her ability to move.

"Oh god," The voice is horrified and pleading. Anders had regained control. He flew beside Hawke, his cold hands against her smarting skin, "Oh god, love, forgive me," He sounded as though he'd burst into tears.

It took a few minutes before Hawke's skin stopped smarting. She breathed in deeply, relishing in the cold feel of Anders's skin. She should hate him. She should fear him. She knew it was a matter of time before that demon truly wrecked her. Yet, she couldn't slay him. Even after he sparked a war that murdered millions all over Thedas, Hawke could not bring herself to kill Anders.

Was it love towards this menacing creature? Hawke believed it was love for Anders, the true Anders that was lost in the overwhelming vengeance, the true Anders that whispered sweet words over a pile of kittens, the true Anders Nathaniel spoke irritatingly about. He was an innocent being driven to anarchy by powers beyond his control, just like the mages she fought so hard to protect. If this belief didn't drive her, Hawke knew she would've slain him the day he blew up the Chantry.

Hawke lay upon the bed when she regained her ability to move. Anders was over her, his hands emitting an intense holy light, brows knitted in concentration. Her hand came up, taking his wrist and ceasing his healing arts, "I'm alright," Her voice was hollow, neither hateful nor loving, "Just, I'm not trying to suppress you," She knew her words could not reach Justice, "No, never mind,"

Hawke was tired of arguing and Anders had lost any motivation to argue for his cause. _Justice almost killed her_. Justice attacked someone so intimately close to him. What if he had encountered outsiders who disagreed with him? He swallowed his dispute but secretly knew that they wouldn't be silenced for long.

The two had lost track of time. The evening was upon them and Hawke had to go for work. Anders helped her into clean clothing and moved to kiss her goodbye. He stopped short, still thinking of what had happened just a moment ago, "Be careful. I heard the waves in Obsidian Lake were turbulent today." His voice was laced with awkward compassion.

"Don't worry. The smugglers wouldn't put me on a violent track," She lied to him. Every evening, she always lied and every evening she masked her lie with a kiss. Today was no different, even in their sour mood; Hawke gave Anders a short kiss before leaving.

XXXXX

Indeed she was heading to Obsidian Lake but not for a job as a smuggler. She knew if she told Anders her true occupation, he'd never forgive her and force her to let him use his magic as a source of revenue. Shedding the leather armour, Hawke headed into the lakeside brothel "The Velvet Foxglove".

She entered from a back passage, shedding her typical tunic and slacks to don worn fishnets, a once-fancy Orlesian courtesan dress, and a low cut corset she had seduced off a pirate daughter. Hawke was glad she had spent a lot of time with Isabella. Hawke was able to shed off her roguish, manly habits and ooze a seductress's charm by mimicking the former pirate captain. Hawke tied her hair in a loose bun. It kept the smell of defilement in the shared beds from soaking into her hair. Using a shard of mirror picked up from the ground, Hawke finished her look with excessive rouge the madam had provided for her.

"Maker help me if Anders discovers this," It was a ritual she had grown accustomed to. Before entering the pink-lit brothel, she'd pray that she'd escape this shameful life before Anders ever found out.

Hawke stepped into the brothel; the scent of ill-sought pleasure polluted the air and clung to her skin. She'd spend an hour every night scrubbing at her body to rid herself of this wretched scent. It'd kill her if Anders were to catch the scent.

XXXXX

It scared her how quickly her body had gotten used to the intrusion of burly men she had never met before. The first night ended with her soaked in guilt and stench. By now, Hawke felt nothing towards the patrons she serviced. She had even grown used to the smell. The only notion that remained in her mind was her fear of Anders discovering their source of gold.

Her shift was almost over and patrons were starting to thin. Hawke sat by the bar, sipping at a cup of ale. Serendipity came over to her, hips swaying lazily. Hawke remembered her from the brothel at Kirkwall. Thankfully, Serendipity hadn't recognized her.

"Hey sweetie, looks like you got something on your mind," The masculine voice coming from that frail elven body always brought a smile to Hawke's face, "Trouble back home with the misters?"

Hawke sighed in return, tossing her cup aside, "Just hoping he never finds out. He'd never let me hear the end of it. Probably get himself into a lot of trouble too," It seemed like Anders's style to use her life as a whore to argue that he should be using his magic to make money, "Men are just so idiotic when it comes to understanding situations."

"Tell me about it," Serendipity replied with a flick of a wrist, "If you're ever tired of men, honey, you know where to find me."

Hawke laughed, giving Serendipity a friendly peck on the cheek. At least she could still find solace in unlikely companions.

The next day began with no fanfare. As usual, Hawke slept in during the day since her job had taken up most of the night. Anders woke early in the morning and left for his job cleaning houses for Orlesian nobles. He had left a stack of cat-shaped pancakes on a barrel, a peace offering to his strained lover. The Anders of before would have thought this was absolutely ingenious. However, the vengeance warped Anders of today could only scoff at how idiotic his actions were.

He left the cabin and headed to his current employer Ser Garroway. He wasn't a noble; rather, he had risen from the slums to a highly respectable position in the city. He started off a miner, working in the obsidian mines by the lake. They were a group of ambitious fools, digging far deeper than what the traditional miners recommended. Eventually, they had struck a passage into an abandoned thaig crawling with darkspawn. The miners told of Garroway Chauncey, merely a lackey to the ambitious fools, using his knowledge of the minerals to create an explosive compound. With this compound, he scared off the darkspawn and sealed their passage into the city. Before the way was sealed, the remaining miners had collected a huge amount of treasure. By unanimous vote, the miners gave the largest share to Garroway. Using this fortune, he promoted himself to high ranks amongst the people. Few couldn't recognize Ser Garroway on sight.

Anders quite enjoyed working for this man. He reminded him of Hawke in her glory days. Today, he had returned to the mines for work, leaving Anders to take care of his son and clean his house.

Humming to himself, Anders carried a bowl of stew with fresh bread to Garroway's son, Maddox's, room, "Ser Maddox, I come with lunch," There was no reply. Anders knocked on the door, "Ser Maddox?" Still no reply, "I'm coming in!" He entered the room, horrified to see the young child lying lifeless on the floor like a torn ragdoll.

Anders dropped the soup onto the bed stand and hurried to the sickly child's side. As he lifted the child, he noticed a searing hot haze coming from his forehead. His lips were a ghastly blue as well. The child was barely breathing. Ser Garroway often mentioned his sickly son. This couldn't have been an abnormal happening. He must have had some medicinal mixes somewhere in the house. Could he chance leaving the child for a brief moment to search for medicine?

Probably, but Anders knew a faster solution.

His hands floated above the boy and a healing light emitted from then. Anders had to concentrate deeply, had to pinpoint the source of the boy's illness and erase it from his system. He poured in more magic than necessary. This was the first time he was able to use his magic on someone other than Hawke, on someone whose anatomy was completely unfamiliar to him. Maddox had opened his eyes while he cast his magic but said nothing. With one mental pull, Anders extracted the viral component and cleansed it with his healing magic. Instantly, Maddox felt better.

"Messere Anders," The young boy murmured, sitting up, "Are you a mage? Father tells me about mages."

Anders froze at his words. His secret had been blown. Though, he gambled Maddox wouldn't be as ungrateful as he feared. However, Justice was not willing to take that gamble. Already, Anders felt a disturbing amount of murderous intent bubbling inside him.

"Father is a mage too," Maddox blurted out, "He's always trying to help out mages on the run."

Justice calmed as Anders calmed. For the rest of the day, Anders spent time listening to Maddox tell stories of his father from a different perspective. It was never a compound he had concocted using minerals. Ser Garroway was a skilled elemental mage who had escaped from the circle and joined a mining crew to hide. The mining crew, from the beginning, knew of his magic but kept it a secret to protect him from the circle. Eventually, they ended up in Orlais, in the City of Obsidian.

Though Maddox suggested that Anders should wait till Ser Garroway returned in the nightfall so they could talk, Anders refused the suggestion. There was only a small window where Anders and Hawke were both awake in their cabin. He couldn't miss that chance to tell her about his wondrous discovery.

There were people in the city that didn't fear mages. There existed people who protected mages for no personal gain other than interest for their well-being. On top of that, Anders used his magic without reprimand. His gifts were not rejected and feared. Perhaps his new material could provide firepower against his arguments.

XXXXX

"Anders!" Hawke exclaimed, "I told you specifically not to use your magic!"

An aggravated sigh, Anders had hoped she'd be more agreeable, "Maddox looked like he was going to die. It was the only way I could help him! And look, it saved him and his father is also a mage! So it's fine,"

"Right, right" Hawke approached Anders, eyes locked onto his, "And what if he wasn't a mage? Or worse, what if they were templar supporters? You only got lucky that time!"

"I healed them! They'd be ungrateful if they reported me!"

Hawke narrowed her eyes. As she stepped forward, Anders retreated back, "Ungrateful? There are a lot of ungrateful people in the world. Like those who constantly throw themselves into danger against another's wishes after they could've been left at the mercy of templars!" Hawke knew what was coming next. She braced herself for it.

Anders tackled into Hawke shoving her onto the bed behind her. She caught her balance, scrambling onto her elbows before Anders came down after her. She moved her wrists away, allowing herself to prop herself on her elbows while Anders lay above her with his palms on the bed. His knees straddled her hips, keeping her from rolling out from underneath him. Hawke looked at Anders calmly, noticing no mystic glow in his eyes.

"Love," Anders started. His voice cracked slightly, "_Hawke_," He corrected himself, using her family name to emphasize his serious tone, "I don't want you living in this shack for the rest of your life. At the very least, I want to get back even a quarter of your fortune and I won't be achieving that by cleaning houses. Using my magic is the only way I can get even a bit of your fortune back." He lowered his head, not able to meet her face, "It's my fault you lost everything."

His softer expression, that airy voice, Hawke knew this was the intention of the true Anders, untainted by his mage background, "I chose **you** over all the fortune in the world. I chose your beliefs over becoming viscount to Kirkwall. All I ask is that you act less reckless with your powers." She gripped his shoulder tightly, rolling him beneath her. She sat upon his legs, finger over his mouth to prevent him from talking, "I'm glad you found another noble who supports mages. But even that isn't without risk. What if news gets here that they're hunting a blonde healer mage who sparked a mage rebellion?" There was a pulse of magic. Hawke could sense Justice stirring. She had to calm him down quickly. Lovingly, she held his face in her hands, "Anders, I only want you by my side and this is the only way I can keep you completely safe."

Hawke lowered herself slowly, pressing their lips together at a torturously slow speed. Anders's stubble tickled at her chin when she pressed deeper. The kiss was short. Hawke lifted herself up and assembled her leather armour, "I'll be out now." With that, Hawke left leaving Anders lying on the bed with a dumbfound expression.

It was the usual routine, strip off the armour, don the courtesan disguise, mutter a prayer, and serve in the brothel. Hawke signed herself in under the alias 'Evelyn Sparrow' and waited in the salon for a customer. Those who were attracted to Hawke were generally burly mercenaries who preferred their women with a bit of muscle to them. It came to her surprise when a slightly-accented, smooth voice called to her.

"Excuse me," The voice came from behind her by the doorframe.

Serendipity walked passed Hawke, an adventurous elf huntress following close, "Oh, you got a real stud this time." Serendipity teased.

Lifting her dress and exposing her smooth legs, Hawke turned to her customer, "Welcome Ser," She froze at the sight of Knight-Captain Cullen standing behind her wide-eyed and mouth-gaping, "Knight-Captain!" She exclaimed in an incredibly un-ladylike manner.

"S-Serah Amell," Cullen greeted quickly, bowing his head. He gave a quick glance to the Madam by the bar. She shot back a glare that blatantly said 'no refunds'.

"Hawke, actually," Hawke corrected. She took his hand and pulled him into her serving bedroom, "Let's get some privacy, shall we?" She shut the door behind her and turned back to look at him, "Well?"

Cullen shrugged dumbly, "Well what?"

"Are you here to capture me, Knight-Captain?"

"No, I'm not and no, not anymore," Cullen replied, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Hawke looked at him perplexedly, "I was demoted from my position. They decided to suspend me for three months so I came here to visit family."

"So you didn't get any hot tips that the former Champion of Kirkwall was residing in a brothel in a nowhere city?" Hawke replied sarcastically, taking a seat on the vanity across from the bed.

Cullen laughed at her remark, "You can't be a former champion. Once a champion, always," He cleared his throat abruptly, "I didn't come to turn you in. I came to...you know." A faint blush appeared in his face.

Hawke laughed loudly, loud enough for the neighbours to hear, "What a dirty little knight-captain!" Cullen only blushed more to her comment, "Jokes aside, you realize if you turn me in, you could get all of your titles re-established. They might even make you Knight-commander of some famous capital." She had expected a witty remark from Cullen. Instead, she was greeted with a sudden indifference, "Knight-captain?"

"Would you mind if I told you a story?"

Hawke was taken aback, "I don't see why not. You paid for my time." She left the vanity and took a seat beside him on the bed, "What is it?"

Cullen settled his forearms onto his knees. His expression was pleasant yet sorrowful, "Before I moved to Kirkwall, I worked at a Circle of Magi in Lake Calenhad," Hawke vaguely remembered what had happened there. She had heard from town criers that a blood mage had been possessed by a pride demon and ended up killing a majority of the templars and fellow mages. She couldn't help but relate this to Anders, "I worked as a guard there. There was an apprentice mage who lived there. Quiet, sullen girl and mischievous too; she wasn't astoundingly beautiful, no, but she was _her_."

"I take it you had feelings for her," Hawke enjoyed that sudden crimson flush that would glow from his cheeks when she teased him, "How sweet, it's the wretched, forbidden love. Now her uncle is going to kill your best friend and one of you will pretend to be dead, right?"

"Are you going to let me continue my story?" Cullen asked with a playful smirk on his face. Hawke relented and gestured for him to continue, "Anyway, yes, I did have feelings for her. I was the talk of all the apprentices, even the other guards laughed at me. Romance between a templar and mage, that never turns out well."

Unable to face Hawke, Cullen stood and walked towards the vanity, "Another rumour flew around the apprentices. She had a best friend, some idiot apprentice. The apprentices would mock me and say she was in love with him. I didn't believe them, of course." He paused. Hawke watched his expression from the vanity mirror: suddenly distraught. He noticed the reflection and looked away, "One day, that best friend asked her to help him destroy his phylactery. A Chantry initiate who conspired with them described the event. There was no hesitation at all to help her friend."

"So she loved another?" Hawke stood and approached Cullen. He kept her back to her.

"I guess she did. I don't know the truth of what happened but I swear to The Maker that he used her. That 'best friend' was a blood mage. He used blood magic to escape and left her and the initiate to take the fall," He took a deep breath after his words, "If breaking into the phylactery-holding chambers wasn't enough, but _blood magic too?_ How far was she willing to fall for this wretched mage?"

Hawke was shocked silent by his words. That was a question that she asked herself far too often, "It's a sad story."

"It gets worse," He murmured, "Knight-Commander Gregoir, the man I worked under, sent her to Aeonar, a mage prison. No, a mage hell. But damn it all, she didn't deserve it! For the love of a mage, who betrayed her trust, she lost everything and more," He slammed his fist on the vanity, startling Hawke with his sudden actions, "And I did nothing to save her. I just watched them walk her away." His face was twisted in stress. He turned to Hawke, approaching her slowly, "That's why I can't turn you in. It wasn't your fault. It was that damned rebel mage you were standing up for. I will not make you pay for his crimes."

Hawke was at a loss for words. She cleared her throat, collecting her thoughts, "I chose to protect the mages on my own will, not Anders's."

"I doubt you planned to blow up the Chantry. I doubt you had any intention of sparking rebellions all over Thedas. Supporting the mages, yes but causing anarchy and chaos for their cause, I highly doubt it." His hand came under Hawke's chin, lifting their eyes to meet, "I've seen the eyes of a fanatic. They're not your eyes." Even after Cullen finished his speech, his hand remained propped under her chin.

"Knight-captain, you can let go now," Hawke remarked. The sentimental gaze he gave her was awkwardly passionate in comparison to their current relationship.

"I'm sorry, Serah Amell,"

"Serah Hawke actually, why do you keep calling me by my mother's name?" Hawke noticed his hand was still clutching her chin gently. Her mind shut down as Cullen planted a kiss onto her lips. Hawke was quite used to sudden kisses from people she felt no affection for; it was a common duty of her current job.

This kiss... The passion and lust pressed against her mouth overwhelmed her. Her knees gave out, crumbling into Cullen's arms around her. She stared at him, wide-eyed, blushing madly. Cullen smiled coyly to her, "You're usually so snarky. It's almost frightening seeing you like this." He helped her to the bed, sitting her onto the corner, "About that mage I was talking about before. After that whole incident with the Circle Tower at Calenhad, I tried so hard to suppress everything. I even forgot her name for a while." He sat beside her; close enough for their knees to touch, "Her last name was Amell. She looked so much like you,"

An unmanly yelp came from Cullen as he was pushed onto his back with his head in the pillows. Hawke sat above him, her hand pressed on his underbelly and slowly gliding up his well-sculpted, templar body, "And here I thought I had seduced you," She joked to him, "You can call me Serah Amell if you wish. It's my job after all," She pulled at his collar till the first button came off.

Cullen took her hand and pulled her forward. He undid the corset she had and tossed it to the floor, "You are too kind, Hawke,"

A whore and her customer was all the relationship was. Hawke had to commit this fact to her heart so she'd never feel like she was betraying Anders. The regular mercenaries, the naive nobles, Cullen, they were all just faceless customers. That could never change if she wanted to stay faithful to her apostate.

It had been weeks since Cullen's first visit and he consistently appeared every night to take up the majority of Hawke's time. Despite their positions, the two only occasionally had sex spending most of their time conversing about current happenings. Whenever the two talked of mages, Hawke always tried her best to divert their conversation from the rebellion in Kirkwall. Sometimes it was just unavoidable.

"Elthina was a good woman with good intentions. She had no reason to die." Cullen started their debate while sitting on the bed.

"You know what they say, something about the road to hell and good intentions," Hawke replied mockingly, "She had no reason to die but she wasn't completely clean either," She leaned against the vanity behind her, "It was the templars' current treatment of the Circle which gave them the desire to rebel and turned them to blood magic for solace. Elthina had enough power to right the oppression from the templars in Kirkwall yet she chose to stand idly by and let their abuse continue. In my eyes, that makes you worse."

"Oppression? You've seen what mages could do." Cullen casually propped his elbows to his knees, "If you saw what I saw at the Circle Tower in Lake Calenhad, you'd understand just how dangerous these mages were."

"You'd judge all the mages in the world based on the actions of only a small fraction of mages?"

"And you'd label the Templars' treatment as oppression based on the actions of only a small fraction of templars?"

"God, I really hate you."

Clearly, neither side was making any ground in convincing the other. Hawke's eyes came upon the hourglass on the vanity. The sand had already filled the bottom chamber, "Alright, time's up. I had a good time venting my frustration on you." Hawke straightened out her dress and opened the door for him.

"You know, that dress doesn't really suit you. It's a bit too feminine," Cullen remarked as he walked out the door. Hawke responded with a slap to the back of his head.

"Someone really wants to piss me off today, doesn't he?" Hawke replied, a smile playing on her face.

XXXXX

It felt good to butt heads with someone who didn't radiate anger every time their belief was met with resistance. Hawke grew to enjoy Cullen's company, seeing him more than just a customer to her service. As time went on, she grew closer to Cullen and sadly, drifted away from Anders's aggravating actions.

"Anders!" Hawke exclaimed as said man came through the doors wearing his trademark renegade's coat, "Why are you wearing that? How are you wearing that? I burned it back in The Free Marches."

"Ser Garroway had this done for me. I told him of my days back in Fereldan and Kirkwall." Anders replied in a jolly mood, "I told him I escaped before the war happened. He had this coat commissioned for me as a token of thanks for taking care of his friend's clinic."

"Clinic!" Hawke shouted, smacking her forehead, "What part of subtlety don't you understand?"

"No one I helped minded that I used magic," Anders replied quickly, "And I'm under a pseudonym. I'm now Nathaniel Cousland. It's not like anyone here recognizes my face or anything."

"Yes, there is! What if Cullen saw you?"

The air between them was silent. Anders raised his brow, "The Knight-captain? What of him?" His face tightened suddenly, "Is that templar here?"

Hawke couldn't tell if this was Justice speaking through Anders or not, "I thought I saw him by the lake. It's nothing." Anders kept his intense look, "He wasn't in armour."

"He's still a templar and a possible threat to us both." Anders boomed, "And that's suspicious, sneaking around the lake a night time. I bet he's plotting something. Maybe he's doing some underground work for the templars." He grabbed Hawke's shoulder, shaking her gently to emphasize the urgency, "If it really is him, we can't let him walk free."

Firm hands came upon his feathered coat and shoved him back roughly. Hawke glared at Anders from afar, "Must you be so suspicious of everyone? He's probably going to the brothel. Every working man goes there at night. And are you suggesting we kill him? Have you gone mad? If I even see him near you, I swear to The Maker I'll stop you personally!" Hawke's voice was saturated with passionate concern for Cullen. Both Hawke and Anders were equally perplexed by the tone of her voice.

"He's a templar!" Anders shouted back. Patches of his skin were alit with blue glow, "He stands for what oppresses mages! Why are you defending him so fervently?"

Hawke was taken aback by herself. The concern leaking from her voice was abnormally sincere. She knew she had to answer quickly before he grew suspicious of her, "He might have been a templar but he was a good man. If it wasn't for him, the templars would've slaughtered us on the spot after Meredith's death." She turned, unable to face him as she lied, "Besides, I don't even know if that was actually him. We just passed each other when I was heading to work at the smugglers. Anyone could have looked like that. It could've been the hero of Fereldan for all we know."

Her lie seemed to calm Anders down. Justice was volatile but not unreasonable. He knew he would gain nothing if he killed an innocent man. On the contrary, it'd probably ruin all the respect he built up over the weeks at the clinic.

"I guess you're right. If I killed an innocent man, we'd probably have to flee."

A shiver rolled down Hawke's spine. Anders feared only if he killed an innocent man which meant Anders had committed himself to killing Cullen once he confirmed it was him. How far did this hatred of templars fester in his mind?

"Good," Hawke replied quickly, "I doubt it could be him anyway." She put on her leather armour and satchel, "I'll be heading to work now. Sleep well," Hawke left the cabin. For the first time since they lived in the cabin, Hawke didn't kiss him goodbye. Concern for Cullen's safety was the only thought in her mind at the moment.

Despite his consent, the thought of the knight-captain wandering the city was more than enough to send Anders for a search-and-destroy mission. The sky was a soft mauve. He'd wait for the darkness of night, primetime for the brothel.

XXXXX

All the candles were out. Hawke was absolutely silent lying on the bed naked beside the former knight-captain. After their romp, Hawke remained on her side, back facing Cullen. He looked to her, concerned by her passivity.

"Serah Hawke, are you alright?" He sat up, "You're not usually this quiet; it scares me," No response to concern, perhaps he'd try humour, "And you don't usually jump me the instant we're alone. Are my templar charms just too much for you?" Still no response, "Alright, now you really are scaring me."

Hawke sat up slowly, holding the blanket over her chest, "Just a thought, isn't it expensive buying my time every night? Maybe you should cut back a bit,"

"I enjoy visiting you and since you sleep during the day, I can only speak to you when you're working," Cullen replied smoothly, "Besides, my family has a lot of money, I'm already set with my own manor, and you probably need it more than me." He looked to Hawke who was already scooping up her clothes off the floor.

"The thought is much appreciated."

The sheets rustled as Cullen shifted over to her, "How would you like to move in with me?"

"W-What?" Hawke exclaimed, whipping around to face him.

A bashful look came upon Cullen's face, "My family helped me raise enough money to keep my own place. It's a nice place up in the Chantry district. You can quit your 'job' here and live with me. There's only one bed but I'm sure we could work things out."

Hawke was taken aback. She hadn't been expecting such an offer, "I'm not going to be a housewife." She retorted.

"I understand. My father hooked me up with a bodyguard job with some higher-up nobles. I'll just slip in a good word, tell them you used to be a templar, and you're in. The pay is much better than the brothels, trust me on that." He paused, noticing the dumbfounded look on Hawke's face. There was an issue he had yet to discuss, "I apologize. All this time, I assumed you lived on your own. Whoever it is, I wouldn't mind letting them live with us."

All this time, Hawke lived in the slums with Anders in a dingy little cabin. He'd come home making peanuts in the morning and she'd leave selling her body to make the rent at night. If she ever wanted to change her fortune, taking this deal would be the only way.

Hell no, she chose Anders over the world. This wasn't going to stop her either. It troubled Hawke to think this deal had even tempted her. Her posture dropped; she felt shameful for even considering Cullen over Anders. It didn't help that Anders could do nothing but aggravate her with his recklessness but even so, she loved him.

"I can't live with you," She replied in a quiet voice, drained from her conflicting emotions, "You should also stop visiting me. You're giving yourself a bad name." If she didn't agree to live with him, the least she could do was protect him from Anders if he truly wanted to kill him. She looked to the former knight-captain, noticing a saddened look on his face, "What?"

Cullen pulled away, "Have you realized that during sex, I stopped calling you 'Amell' weeks ago?"

She had realized it. She just refused to acknowledge it, "No. It doesn't matter what you call me. It's just my job." Hawke stood, pulling the dress over her body and lacing it loosely around her waist. She didn't bother with the stockings and slipped on her leather shoes, "Our time is done." Hawke left quickly, heading to the back entrance. Already she missed her intimacy with Cullen.

She couldn't love him.

Hawke was leaving her session early. The madam would definitely reprimand her for it but she could not bear to sit with Cullen after the rejection. She knelt by the door of the back entrance, pulling out the leather armour hidden behind a couple boxes.

"Hawke," A hand came upon her shoulder. Hawke couldn't bring herself to shrug it off, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push everything onto you like that." He wasn't an idiot, a foolish man but not an idiot. Anyone with Hawke's skill working in a brothel would have been elated by his offer. She must have been living with someone else, someone she loved, "There's someone else, isn't there? I apologize."

"I never told you and I'm working in a brothel," Hawke replied, "I'm not surprised that you hadn't figured it out."

"It's your job here. I should've known anyway, seeing you wash yourself so thoroughly in the river every night after your session." Cullen replied absently. Hawke's narrowing eyes and pursed lips suddenly alerted him of what he was said, "Not that I was watching you bathe! I was just walking by!"

"I'm sure," Hawke said sarcastically. She pushed open the back door, holding it for him as he stepped out, "Anyway, you should stop visiting me at the brothel. It'll be awkward." Her true reason masked with superficial motive.

Cullen nodded in agreement, "I understand," He took a pouch off his belt, "Take this. It's a map to the noble I'm guarding and to my manor," As Hawke opened the pouch, a pink, waxy block fell out, "Ah, and that's a bit of soap. I noticed the block you were using was getting small."

"Just how closely you were watching me, perverted knight-captain?" Hawke said in a snarky tone, examining the parchment map, "It is much appreciated."

"You don't have to live with me but I can still hook you up with a job." Cullen bowed dutifully to her, "Serah Hawke, it's the least I can do." He didn't wait for a response. He turned his back on her and left the brothel through the back alleys.

Hawke couldn't help but feel a heartbroken sentiment as she watched him disappear into the night. She held the pouch close, brewing up a story for Anders about the origin of her new job opportunity. Hawke made her way to the river bank beside the brothel. Thank the Maker for its convenient location. She tucked her equipment under the beams holding the corner of the brothel over the river. In her hands, she held onto the block of soap Cullen gave her.

The moon was out tonight, basking everything in a lonely, white glow. Carefully, Hawke knelt in the moon-dipped river, wetting the soap and preparing it for use. The soap smelled of warmth and cinnamon. It was Cullen's scent. It was the scent of his embrace, his sculpted body, his soft touches. It was the scent of her cold rejection and muffled regret.

To that warm perfume, she whispered her apologies to.

A gentle hand on her shoulder startled her. If she wasn't so battle-hardened, she would have screamed at the sudden touch, "Hawke," A smooth male voice came from behind. The hand slid down, caressing the side of her breast intimately.

"Cullen?" She murmured, turning around and dropping the block of soap in blatant horror.

There Anders stood, bewildered at her response to his touch. There Hawke stood, horrified at the name that slipped from her mouth.

Hawke was tossed roughly onto the bed, draped only in Anders's feathery coat. He hadn't bothered to let her get dressed in her armour, merely carrying that back home with one arm while dragging Hawke with his other. He tossed the bundle onto a barrel in the dining room, reaching to shut the bedroom door when both were inside. A sudden clatter alerted the two. Both set of eyes fell upon the pouch Cullen had given to Hawke. Anders bent over and took the pouch in his hands.

"Did he give this to you?" He asked; his voice was threatening and loud. Hawke didn't know how to answer to such a demonic tone, "Answer me!"

"Goddamn it Anders," She hissed, grabbing the pouch from his hands, "Don't touch that!" She couldn't tell what his next move was. A hand came down on her cheek, slapping her hard enough to toss her back onto the bed. Hawke was absolutely stunned at what happened. She could only stare as Anders tossed the pouch out the dining room window and shut the door firmly behind him.

She couldn't lose her composure. That was admitting to an affair she hadn't truly committed to, "Anders, it's not what you think."

"Working at a brothel to make our ends meet? Sleeping with the knight-captain? Keeping this all a secret from me?" Anders was absolutely furious.

Hugging the coat to her body, she stood to face him, "I couldn't take up smuggling work. I used to work with smugglers back in Kirkwall. If I ran into someone I used to know, it'd be all over," Wearing nothing but Anders's thick coat made her feel exposed, vulnerable, "I didn't tell you because without it, we wouldn't have been able to pay for the cabin."

"Then I could start up a clinic or something!"

"Exactly! I didn't want you to expose yourself like that! It was too risky," Hawke shouted back, "It wasn't the most faithful thing to do to you but you have to understand it was the only way I could have paid for our living conditions. Those...cretins I slept with, I feel nothing for them. They were just a means to an end."

A brutal shove pushed Hawke onto her back on the bed. The coat rolled off her shoulders, exposing her naked body to Anders, "That doesn't excuse you for what you've done. And not to mention the knight-captain," Hawke was started to regret not telling him earlier. The two already had a strained relationship. The revelation of her true job and her affair with the knight-captain only twisted the knife further into their crippled love, "No wonder you defended him, a templar of all people."

There couldn't have been a worse situation for Hawke to have trapped herself in: Lying to her spouse, taking immoral ways to make money, sleeping leisurely with another man, and a templar on top of that. It was a concoction that did more than push Anders over the edge; it pushed Vengeance over the edge with him.

"There was nothing between Cullen and me. He offered to let me live with him and offered me a job as a bodyguard. I turned him down." It was the truth. She had turned him down for Anders's sake.

He lowered himself on the bed, pressing her shoulders into the pillows. He leaned in, his hot breath condensing against Hawke's cool lips. His intense glare burrowed into Hawke's eyes, sparking with flame of vengeance as he moved closer, "Did you bed him?" There was no answer that could please him.

"He called me A-"

"Did you bed him!" Anders barked into her face. Hawke shut her eyes, unable to keep up with that animalistic glare. She couldn't answer, "How many times?" His voice quieted down, "Once? Twice? Several?"

"Just a couple times," Hawke turned away and shut her eyes. Her arms flew upward, shoving at Anders's chest, "It was my job. He paid for it." Easily, the champion could have thrown him off if she wanted. It was the shame of it all that held back her strength, "Damn it, he called me Amell when we bedded. I reminded him of his old flame."

"_Have you realized that during sex, I stopped calling you 'Amell' weeks ago?" _

Hawke was entirely aware of what Cullen said. As she predicted, Anders saw right through her lie. He stood up from the bed. His glare locked upon her eyes kept her from rising off the bed. He reached into the chest and approached her, holding a piece of twine in his hands.

"Give me your wrists,"

It was a command, not a request. When Hawke refused to comply, Anders reached out and grabbed her left arm firmly. He wrapped a piece of twine around one wrist and jerked her forward to take her other arm. Hawke resisted at first, ready to deliver a swift kick to Anders's chin. A sudden feeling of guilt took over when she saw a smouldering sadness underneath the heartbroken fury in Anders's eyes. She hadn't meant any harm with her actions. It was the fact Cullen had almost enticed her to live with him that drove her into submission.

Hawke placed her wrist into Anders's hand. She looked up at him, eyes soft and yearning, "Very well," A normal apology would never do. She had to show true forgiveness to him. Her wrists were bound behind her back with the twine yet Hawke could feel tenderness to Anders's touch. His arms came around her shoulders and beneath her knees, carrying her to the top of the bed, "Anders, I'm sorry."

He did not reply. Instead, his right hand released a hot glow on her underbelly before it came up to fondle her left breast. His other hand steadied her chin as he leaned in to kiss her. Hawke responded to the kiss tenderly, writhing slightly under her bonds as his right hand fondled a little rougher. A sudden pinch and jolt of electricity traveled up her left breast to her lips leaving them aching with hot pain. His hand continued to twist her nipple, continuously sending jolts of electricity pulsing through her flesh, leaving her skin hot and smarting.

"Stop it," Hawke murmured through the aching heat. Anders made no move to relent. On the contrary, his actions seemed to intensify as a searing heat came from his other hand. With the burning hand, he traced a line down her neck, over her untouched breast, and to her sensitive underbelly. His touch left a purplish burn mark down her body. Hawke grunted at the hot pain, "Anders, shit, stop that,"

His lips came upon the shell of her ear. Anders shushed her quietly, massaging her body with his magic-charged hands shooting bursts of pain throughout her body. When her entire body smarted with numbing, magic-induced pain, Anders relented and rolled her onto her stomach keeping her upper half propped up on the pillows.

"I love you," Anders whispered into her hair, "It kills me to know that you worked at a brothel to make our ends meet," His hands, now enhanced with ice magic, glided down her back, "I wish you told me." Anders's skin lit with mystical blue light, "Our relationship was crumbling and you were running into that templar's arms. I've never felt so angry in my life."

She swallowed, turning to face him, "Cullen meant nothing to me. He was just a friend."

A sharp smack to her backside shut her up, "That's a lie. You've referred to him as nothing but 'knight-captain' even when you were in good relations with him back at Kirkwall. Why the sudden change?" She didn't know how to answer to that.

His hands were sweaty upon her bottom, gripping into each side firmly. Hawke could feel the rage coming from him, could see that demonic blue glow blazing in his eyes and skin. Something hard pressed against her wetness, forcing into her unprepared entrance. Hawke moaned in defiance, her voice high and pleading, so unlike the throaty moans she made when Cullen held her.

Without warning, he plunged himself down to the hilt. Hawke would have screamed if the brothel hadn't accustomed her body to brutal servicing. Anders developed a steady but forceful rhythm, pulling in and out with increasing speed and force. Hawke felt Anders bend down, resting his chin against her shoulder, breathing down her neck. He planted fleeting kisses in the crook of her neck without slowing down his rhythm.

The glow was dying down from his body. Weakly, Hawke turned to Anders. She gasped at the sight of tears building in his eyes. He mumbled into his kisses, pressing them all over her shoulder and hair, everywhere he could reach in his position.

"...love you. I love you. So...by the maker, I love you so much..."

That sultry voice in her ear combined with the amazing feeling of Anders buried deep inside her was more than enough to push her to her climax. Her moans became yearning shouts. Her breathing quickened. Her hair glued to her forehead with sweat.

"Anders," She moaned loudly, "Say my name...please!" She begged, pressing her hips down in tandem with him.

A throaty moan erupted from his throat. He buried his face into her flesh, mumbling her name into her supple flesh. Anders came first, filling her with his white heat. Hawke came shortly after, overwhelmed by the hot fluid pumping into her body. The two collapsed onto the bed, too tired to even open their eyes. After a short moment of rest, Anders untied her arms and tossed the twine aside, embracing her as tightly as he could.

Hawke closed her eyes and hugged back. With Anders, it was different. With Anders, every movement pleasured her; every word whispered rocked her world. Every bit of discord dissolved in those loving eyes, "I love you too," Hawke murmured back, "I'm so sorry." She couldn't help but attach that to the end. She waited for an apology, an acknowledgement of what she had done to protect him, anything.

"I forgive you," Hawke could only feel a sudden heated glow against her underbelly once more, close to her crotch. A wave of exhaustion rolled over her, pulling her into a deep sleep as Anders continued to work his magic on her womb.

Hawke awoke the next day, groggy and weak under the sheets of the bed. Anders had already left for his new job at the clinic. Weakly, she cleaned herself with a bit of water from the well outside and got dressed in her commoner's clothing. She'd noticed that her courtesan outfit was gone; Anders probably burned it while she slept. Hawke planned to fall back asleep, her body not able to keep up.

However, she remembered the pouch Cullen gave her. Hawke rushed outside and searched the area around the window. The pouch was gone, taken.

Taken by Anders...

She was horrified at the revelation. That pouch contained directions to Cullen's living quarters. Who knew what Anders would do with information like that? The sight of the Chantry at Kirkwall going up in a burst of mystically horrifying light came to mind. She ran for the clinic, vaguely aware of where Ser Garroway's mansion was. As Hawke ran, she couldn't help but feel exhaustion creeping through her body. She fought through it, desperate to get to Anders's.

"Anders!"

Hawke's voice called to the healer from the door of the clinic. Anders turned, wiping his hands, a sour look upon his face. His last patient left happily with her family. Hawke came up to him, stern look on her exhausted face.

"Give me the pouch,"

Anders folded his arms, "You mean the one the templar gave you? I don't see why you need it."

"Don't play games!" Hawke hissed, "What are you planning to do with it?" The sight of pillars of magic shooting from the city entered her mind once more, "Anders, don't you dare harm him." Anders pushed pass her, "Don't run away!"

He hadn't run away. He shut the door and locked it tight. Blazing blue energy coursed through his body and flooded through his eyes, "He is a templar, an oppressor of mages. Have you not slaughtered your share of them as well? What makes this one different?"

"Justice," Hawke whispered under her breath, "The knight-captain stood up for us. And we aren't in war anymore. He's not even on duty. It's not the same!" Hawke stumbled as she took another step, a wave of exhaustion threatening to throw her off her feet, "Weren't we trying to keep a low profile?"

"I will not let that templar live. He's is a stain against what I stand for," The mystical glow faded from Anders. His hand gently swept Hawke's face, "He's a stain against what I love." His touch was so tender the night before. Now his touch felt white hot against her skin.

Hawke slapped his hand away, "So this is a personal matter. What did last night mean? I said I loved you, not him. Leave Cullen out of this," Anders' heartfelt apology, his forgiveness nested in sweet pleasure, _all a lie. _She knelt over a table, almost collapsing on it. Anders waved his hand at her and her knees buckled suddenly, "Shit, Anders, what did you do to me?"

Anders bent down, lifting her legs up and laying her against the table, "Last night, I impregnated you after cleansing your body of any taint that knight-captain had lain upon you," He took off his feathery coat, laying it over her, "And I cursed you with exhaustion. You shouldn't have been able to leave the shack but as usual, you've exceeded my expectations."

"Impregnated me? What of my job?" She struggled to speak.

"I personally told them you were quitting. A whore there was quite disappointed. She told me you had great tumbles with the knight-captain," He gripped her shoulders tightly, hard enough to bruise, "Told me he came every single night and bought up all your time. You lied to me again, Hawke."

Hawke shook her head, eyes too exhausted to stay open, "No, we talked most of the time,"

Anders released her. The curse upon Hawke was enough to restrain her to the table. She pulled the coat back, watching Anders as he prepared his clinic, "You needn't worry about the brothel anymore or the knight-captain. Just concentrate on taking care of the child. I'll make the money we need."

The curse, the child, this was Anders's way of trapping her. It was his way of claiming his possession.

Hawke lay there on the table, too exhausted to move as more patients flooded in. Lost in her thoughts, she could only think of the fate that awaited Cullen and how the love they made last night was only to trap her. Lying weakly against the table, Hawke wanted to cry. She refused to, not in front of Anders. No, not Anders, the man before her wasn't Anders or Justice. It was a lust-driven demon.

The day was ending; the patients were thinning. Hawke had just awoken from her cursed-induced sleep. Anders was busy taking care of a few patients. Clearly, Anders was not aware that a short moment after awakening, she would be at full strength. She kept her eyes half-lidded in case Anders looked to her direction.

When she looked to Anders, something immediately caught her attention. Since his coat was removed, Hawke could clearly see Cullen's pouch strapped to his belt. He had been planning on using it or else he would've just tossed it away. She had to take it from him without him noticing; she needed a distraction...

"Hawke, is that you?" Serendipity asked as she approached the sleeping figure. Anders hadn't noticed the Elven whore approaching Hawke, "We heard you quit. Are you sick, honey? I know I have a few...unwanted pests myself if you know what I mean."

Hawke glanced quickly at Anders and back at Serendipity, "No," She answered quickly. She couldn't waste any time, "Sweetie, I really need your help. Could you please distract Anders? Pull off all the feminine charm you possibly could, please?"

"Oh sweetheart, you know I'd do anything for you," She gave Hawke a reassuring kiss on the forehead, "Watch me work my magic!" A small smile appeared on Hawke's face as she watched Serendipity blatantly seduce Anders, successfully distracting him.

Hawke lay the coat down, sneaking over to Anders with all the stealth she had acquired from her days as a rogue. She grabbed the pouch on his belt, unhinging it slowly.

"I should really get back to work. Is there something you need checked?" A bashful smile played on Anders's face so unlike the demon that faced Hawke. He backed up as Serendipity moved closer, bumping into Hawke as he did so. He whipped around; Hawke's eyes grew in horror as her hand tightened its grip on the pouch.

She ran. There was nothing else to do. Her body would give into exhaustion if she waited any longer. Anders pushed Serendipity away and gave chase. His hands sparkled with magic but he held himself in, knowing he couldn't use offensive magic in public.

Hawke's heart raced as she fled. She felt as if she was fleeing for her life. Anders had never used magic against her before. Anders never had sex with her as a means to an end. Now she was fleeing from him, cursed with magic she has never heard of before, to protect a templar she had once opposed. When did their sweet romance turn into such a bitter battle?

Hawke was far nimbler than Anders. She wasn't named the champion of Kirkwall for nothing. She had reached a great distance from him before the curse kicked in. She brought herself into a grove of trees, perfect cover for her. Hawke opened the pouch, glad to see the map was still there. Scanning it quickly, she memorized the location of Cullen's home. Cullen would always be at the brothel during this time. Since she had told him not to come, logically, he'd be at his mansion during this hour.

A fold in the corner revealed a small note scribbled on the back. Hawke flipped it around, seeing a small 'I love you' scribbled near the top and a mystic glyph painted over the back. Hawke recognized the glyph. Anders had used it before to keep track of a cat they once had by painting it on its bell.

"Shit-!"

Arms came around Hawke's body, carefully pinning her against Anders's body. Hawke tried to shake him off but the exhaustion curse was powerful in its hold on her. She moved to scream, hoping someone would come to her, only to be met by a firm hand covering her mouth. Her hands pried at Anders's to no avail.

Anders pulled both of them onto the floor, keeping her pinned and huddled against his body. He picked up the map and stuffed it into another pouch on his belt. She continued to struggle; unable to believe that it was _Anders_ she feared, "Hawke," His voice was firm, "Were you going to him?" He lifted his hand off her mouth, keeping it only slightly touching her lips to silence her in case she screamed.

"You're not Anders," Hawke murmured into his palm, "You've become a demon!" She glared at his cold expression, "I was going to warn him. To protect him from you," Hawke whipped around, glaring at him up front, "You've become an abomination!" The image of Anders before her began to sway. His grip on her body rippled exhaustion throughout her body.

A bottle came down on Anders's head. He grunted in pain, letting go of Hawke to grip the back of his head. Serendipity stood behind him, broken bottle in hand, "Sweetheart, run!"

Hawke replied breathlessly, "Thank you," She fled from the grove, begging that Anders wouldn't hurt Serendipity. The whore had fled shortly after, believing Anders had been knocked unconscious. Her blow had knocked him out, sadly awakening a vengeful force inside Anders immune to bodily weaknesses. Vengeance reawakened Anders and sent him chasing after Hawke, using the shortcuts outlined on Cullen's map.

The presence of white-washed buildings and finely tiled floors signalled that Hawke had entered the Chantry district. She searched the buildings, looking for the building exactly parallel to the southeast pillar of the Chantry. It was what the map dictated. Her world was already swaying from exhaustion. It'd be a matter of seconds before she lost consciousness. Anders was not in hot pursuit of her. This only frightened her more, not knowing where he was.

As soon as she found the building parallel to the Chantry pillar, Hawke collapsed against the door unable to move her body. She weakly pounded against it but doubted anyone could have heard. With the rest of her remaining strength, she gave the door a forceful kick loud enough to sound the second floor. There was still no response. Cullen must've been out. Did he go to the brothel? Hawke's heart wrenched at the thought.

An arm came around her shoulders, catching her before she lost consciousness. Another came under her knees, lifting her into the air. A voice called to her but she couldn't recognize it. In fear, she struggled weakly, slapping whoever was lifting her several times before pure exhaustion claimed her. A brief moment of relief came through to her as she heard the manor door click open. The warm cinnamon smell brushed against her senses as she entered.

"Knight-Captain," The voice was cold calling to him from behind.

Cullen turned, still holding Hawke in his arms, "You. You're that apostate!" Cullen recognized him on sight, always tailing behind Hawke. More importantly, Cullen easily recognized him as the terrorist who blew up the Chantry. With Hawke in his arms and an infuriating look on the apostate's face, Cullen easily put the pieces together, "So, you were courting her?"

"That is none of your business, templar."

"This is completely my business!" He lay the sleeping Hawke down onto a bench by the stairs. From the chest by the door, Cullen took out his templar-issued sword, "Serah Hawke is a close friend and you are a wanted apostate responsible for sparking rebellions everywhere." Cullen left his estate armed with his sword and nothing else. He shut the door behind him, preventing Anders from entering, "Under the Templar order, I will execute you."

A fierce glower was shot at Cullen. Anders paced back and forth, eyes not leaving the former knight-captain, "It had to be done. You're a templar. You don't know what it was like to be a mage trapped in the circle. All you can see is your own righteousness!" Patches of his skin were lighting up. Cullen took notice of this, "Mages are human too. They don't deserve to be farmed into a Circle and isolated from the entire world!"

"I don't agree with the treatment of mages in the Circle," Anders was taken aback by Cullen's response, "I used to but I grew from that view. Regardless, the Circle is necessary. As much as your kind hate to admit it, an untrained mage is as dangerous as any blood mage birthed from oppression." Cullen pointed his sword at him, "And you're exactly the type of demon we're meant to hunt."

If it were any other situation, Anders would've walked into the blade then Justice would be served for the innocents slaughtered for the mages' freedom. However, this wasn't any other situation. Burning jealousy and lust ignited a new form of Vengeance inside him. A bright glow flared from his body unlike the glow of Justice's or Vengeance's presence.

"How dare you take her from me," It was Anders's voice speaking, not Justice's. Justice was merely the catalyst where he drew his corrupted vengeance and tainted it further with his desires, "A templar of all that." He approached Cullen, energies blazing off his body.

Cullen stepped up to him. He was unlike any abomination he had seen before. Never had such raw aggression been directed to him personally. He had to slay this creature; there was no redemption in bringing him to the circle. However, he knew it was foolish to fight him upfront. He needed to calm him.

"She chose you. I offered her shelter, fortune, everything I had, and she turned me down. Not to mention, she told me to never go to the brothel again last night." It was the truth. Anders could sense that off him, "I don't know why she ran to me but I doubt it was solely on desire to see me. I'd bet you my entire fortune it was because of you." Who wouldn't run from an angry, glowing abomination?

"You lie to me, templar," He took the map from his pocket, tossing it to the ground before him.

"A map to my manor, good to know my house isn't safe anymore," Cullen remarked wittingly, "I offered her a job so she'd never have to work at the brothel again," He eyed the tiny note scribbled on the corner of the map. Clearly, Anders hadn't missed that, "Those are unrequited feelings,"

Cullen's explanation calmed Anders. The glow faded from him and a human expression returned to his face. Before he could retort, Cullen came at him, knocking him to the ground with the flat side of his sword. Anders dodged the decapitating blow, rolling out of the way. Magic swirled around his hands only to be deactivated by a flash of light from Cullen's body. He was a templar after all, a seasoned one at that. Disarming magic was his specialty.

"Stop this!" The voice was foreign to Cullen. A noble and his family ran in front of Anders, shielding him, "Leave him alone!"

"Ser Garroway!" Anders shouted. More people came to Anders's defence, guided by the figure of the hero Ser Garroway and their new healer. Despite knowing that he's an apostate, the people still stood beside him. Even though he knew it was because of Ser Garroway's presence, Anders felt a bit of pride for his magic roots.

"This man..." Cullen started, "Blew up the Chantry in Kirkwall. He is a terrorist that ignited Circle rebellions all over. Would you still protect him?" The secret was out now. But would they believe it?

"Do not spit your lies! Nathaniel has worked for me all his life." It was a lie to convince the public. Cullen spied the quick glance shared between Anders and Garroway. He was covering for him. It surprised him to know that such a terrorist had loyal supporters.

Cullen withdrew his attack, knowing he could not succeed against such powerful nobles, "I must've mistaken, my humblest apologies," The tone mocked Anders, "I shall return to my quarters then," To further aggravate him, Cullen walked back into his manor where Hawke rested and shut the door.

Anders knew not to take advantage of Ser Garroway's power. He simply said his goodbyes and went back home, contemplating what had happened.

Knowing the manor was unsafe, Cullen brought Hawke to the brothel. He had considered the Chantry at first since they were open for people to rest at night but after remembering what had happened to Kirkwall's Chantry, he reconsidered. Cullen rented out a room for the whole night, carrying Hawke in his arms as he did.

"If I'm not interrupting," Serendipity let herself into Cullen's rented room. Hawke was still asleep on the bed with Cullen sitting in a dressy chair beside the bed, "You're not her lover, are you?" Cullen shook his head, "As I thought, it was that mage."

"You know of him?"

"I dropped by his clinic for a bit of...healing. Hawke asked me to distract him. When she ran off with this pouch, the mage chased after her. I feared for her so I followed after. Knocked him out with a bottle,"

Cullen nodded in acknowledgement, "Thank you. I'm grateful." With that, Serendipity returned to her customers. While Hawke rested peacefully, Cullen reached out a hand to touch her forehead. It was odd that she was so exhausted at such a time; was she sick? With the probing touch and concentration, Cullen immediately sensed a curse upon her.

"An exhaustion curse," He murmured, stretching his hands out. He hadn't taken lyrium in a while so his skills were rusty. He cleansed her body of the curse, collapsing to the bed in exhaustion later. Absently, he crawled into the sheets beside her and slept.

XXXXX

Hawke stirred slowly, happy that she hadn't been vaporized by a magic bomb. The used silk sheets around her were familiar. She had lain in these sheets so many times that she'd grown accustomed to their feel. A shift beside her alerted her. Hawke stared in shock at the former knight-captain curled up on the bed beside her.

"Cullen," She murmured, shaking his shoulder. Was it a dream? She wished all that had just happened was a dream. Her hand came upon her underbelly, silently wondering if she really had been impregnated by Anders. She shook the templar again, "Cullen, wake up,"

The templar stirred, opening his eyes slowly, "Serah Hawke, how are you feeling," He sat up slowly, "I cleansed you of the exhaustion curse. I'm afraid I haven't taken lyrium in a while so it drained me." He confirmed it wasn't a dream. Hawke's expression fell, "About the man you were courting..." Cullen tried to dance around the name, hoping to lessen the accusation, "He's..."

"An apostate, the man who destroyed the templars and the circle, the father to my child," Her hand stroked her belly slowly, "Anders...were you always like this?" She rambled to herself. In the safe companionship of Cullen, Hawke felt a sudden wave of sorrow come over her. In his safe companionship, she felt she could express her true feelings. Her hand came up, covering her eyes, "He wouldn't have ever dreamed of hurting me, sleeping with me as a means to an end, trapping me, threatening me, it's all so much," She couldn't look at Cullen as she spoke, "But...he's not a bad person. I wouldn't have fallen in love with him if he was."

Cullen pulled her hands together, holding them in his. She hadn't cried but her eyes shimmered with distress, "I want to trust what you say," Cullen picked being a human over being a templar, a weakness in Meredith's eyes, "But everything he's done, to you, to Thedas,"

"Cullen, he's a good person. I've been with him for so long."

"He's an apostate and the most wanted man in Thedas."

"Everything he does is with good intentions for the freedom of mages."

"_The path to hell is paved with good intention_." His words were painful echoes, "Everyone in Thedas, mages, templars, those caught in the middle, would be better without him."

"I wouldn't,"

She knew her words hurt Cullen. Despite all that Anders had done, despite all that Cullen had done, Hawke chose Anders and would stand by him. What she did not expect was a sudden burst of rage from the understanding, level-headed Cullen.

His hands flew forward, grabbing Hawke and pressing her against the backboard, "Have you forgotten everything he did to you? He used his magic against you, cursed you with exhaustion. And don't lie to me, Hawke, he used his magic against you before, hasn't he?" She was stunned silent. There was nothing she could say to win this argument, "That man is hurting you!"

"I know he loves me," The only words she could spit out to prevent Cullen's from assimilating with her thoughts.

_But I love you too..._The words never left Cullen's mouth but Hawke could read them from his eyes, "I'd never hurt you. I'd give you everything..." Cullen felt the warmth of Hawke's breathe against his lips. His lips parted and moved towards hers, cherishing in her warm scent that grew stronger and stronger...

She merely wanted to push him back but somehow, her actions to repel him became a violent strike to his cheek.

This was it: The final step of rejection that sealed both of their thoughts. The sting in Cullen's cheek reminded him that his feelings would never be reciprocated. Hawke could not find the strength to strike Anders. This moment confirmed whom she truly loved and who was second in her life.

Cullen reeled back shamefully, sitting on the edge of the bed with his head down. The two sat in silence for a while before Hawke inched herself over to him, "I'm sorry." Her hands glided around his shoulders, holding him gently.

"I want to trust what you say, that he's actually a good person," Cullen muttered, still turned away, "But, as a templar, I can't do that. I want to, but I can't." Whether it was based on his personal feelings or his duty, he was committed to put the apostate down.

She nodded, "I know," She withdrew her hands, placing them above her womb again, "Then, capture him, don't kill him," This was a hard task to ask of Cullen. The templar agreed but she knew it killed him inside, "I'll act as bait, or anything you need me to be."

Cullen nodded in acknowledgement. He stood, fixing his clothing, "That'll be a lot of help,"

Hawke stood next, straightening her clothes and heading to the vanity, "Let's start planning now," She leaned against the vanity, folding her arms, "He can be stunned by miasmic flasks. If I can get the right amount of reagents, I should be able to create something to stun Anders's human body."

"Always straight to work, that's what I loved about you," Cullen stood, walking towards her with a professional demeanor, "If I can get my hands on enough lyrium, I should be able to make a lyrium glyph," Hawke looked at him in puzzlement, "It's a type of charm used to shut down all magic. If we combine that with the miasmic flask, we can stun him and seal his magic."

"That will deal with Anders...and Justice,"

"Is that what he calls the demon?" Cullen commented. Despite his light tone, Hawke could sense the spite in his voice. Immediately after, Cullen rushed to the door, "I'll meet you back here when we're prepared."

There was a pause, "Very well," Hawke replied shortly after. With that cue, Cullen left. Hawke left the room; her face was rigid and serious betraying none of the distraught softness it held before. Cullen looked back for a second. Despite what had happened, he was happy to see the face of a champion once more.

XXXXX

It rained heavily that day, troublesome to Hawke since her miasmic flask reagents would react in the rain. She ran as fast as she could, using her body as a shield to protect the reagents she had collected. By the time she entered the brothel building, she looked like a drowned body.

"Oh darling!" Serendipity called out as she ran to her side, "Let me get you something to wear before you catch a cold!" Hastily, Serendipity provided her a courtesan dress, "Oh, she won't miss it," Serendipity joked when Hawke questioned the origin of this dress, "Oh, and that hunk of a templar..."

Hawke stripped off her wet clothing and donned the dress slowly, "Cullen?" She had difficulty pulling the un-loosened corset over her toned body. When she finally pulled her head through the collar, her eyes came upon Cullen in full templar armour standing before her. She couldn't help but admit that he was handsome in his uniform.

"Serah Hawke," He greeted with a nod, "I've gotten permission from this Chantry to borrow their armour and a good amount of Lyrium. I'm ready whenever you are," Hawke immediately began brewing her miasmic chemicals, "I saw him at the clinic earlier. I say we confront him at the clinic, expose him for what he is, and capture him while the crowd is restless."

"Fair enough," Her response was soft-spoken, half hearted. Cullen could tell Hawke didn't want to capture Anders. Likewise, Hawke could tell Cullen didn't want to capture him either. Despite this concordance, both their desires were so drastically different that it was brutally ironic that the two were working together.

Miasmic flask in hand, Hawke walked through the rain with only an exotic umbrella she had taken off one of the foreign courtesans. The two had agreed to approach the clinic separately so any of the nobles supporting Garroway would not notice them conspiring together. Hawke's job was to lure Anders into the open while Cullen would trap him in a lyrium glyph. Then, when Justice awoke to break free, Hawke would paralyse his physical body making him easy to capture... and even easier to kill.

That lingering doubt that Cullen would slay him on the spot never left Hawke's mind.

The rain kept falling; the world was soaked in the white noise of soft rain. Hawke could barely hear the soft, human voice of Anders as he called to her from the clinic.

"Love..." He whispered, not leaving the cover of his makeshift clinic.

"Anders," Hawke replied sharply, "There's nothing you can say. No apology you can mutter that will redeem you," _It's over_. Those were her final words to him. She knew those words would draw him out and the instant it did, Cullen would spring his trap.

Before the words left her mouth, Anders tore away from her gaze and gripped into his soft blonde locks, "Idiot," He whispered to himself. He slumped over, weakness percolating throughout his body, "I lost control. I'm losing control," When he finally met her gaze, his eyes were pleading, sorry, human, "If I could turn back time, I'd fix everything. I promise." He took a step towards the door, "Hate me. Please hate me. Just know that I love you,"

"Anders..." Hawke dropped the umbrella and ran to him and that was when Cullen decided to intervene.

A godly light pierced the ground and enraptured Anders. He screamed in pain, falling to his knees as the glyph tore at Justice, tore at his soul. Hawke reached to him only to be blocked by Cullen's shield.

"Don't step in it. You'll disturb the glyph and it'll disable itself."

Anders's eyes rose, not with betrayal, but with understanding. He looked to Hawke with gentleness, "I understand. At least I was happy for a while," He cast his gaze downward as demonic forces involuntarily escaped from his body.

The sheer power Anders's exerted was beyond any demon Cullen had ever witnessed. There was no way this monstrosity could be captive for long. It'd have to be slain sooner or later. For Hawke's sake, Cullen held back, "Hawke! Stun him now!"

The miasmic flask came down...

...At Cullen's feet.

The templar collapsed to the ground, body numb and weak. Hawke ran through the glyph, dispersing it and containing all the demonic energy forcing its way through Anders. Her arms came around him, pulling the mage against her rain-soaked body. Both covered in rain, with visages of sorrowful sweetness, they shared a kiss. It wasn't an apology, just an acknowledgement.

Hawke took Anders's hand. Their voices were muted to Cullen but he could catch that the two were planning on fleeing town, "He's going to hurt you again!" Cullen shouted through his miasmic haze. He saw Hawke glance at him briefly before taking off with Anders. Shutting his eyes, letting the icy rain seep through his armour and touch his warm skin, Cullen swallowed his sadness and accepted his defeat.

* * *

I unfortunately end with an incredibly dark note but I promise that this is not the end for Cullen, Hawke, and Anders


End file.
